


Hide and Seek

by RoRoWeasley



Series: Original Series Oneshots [2]
Category: Thunderbirds
Genre: Brothers, Childhood Memories, Family Fluff, Fluff, Gen, Pre-Canon, Pre-IR, WeeTracys, Young Tracys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-18
Updated: 2018-05-18
Packaged: 2019-05-08 17:52:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14699295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoRoWeasley/pseuds/RoRoWeasley
Summary: The Tracys, young and old, all have a favourite game. A bit of family fluff that was originally written as a birthday present for my dad. Original Series tv-verse but pre-IR.





	Hide and Seek

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: As much as I’d love to, I don’t own Thunderbirds.

** HIDE AND SEEK **

**A Thunderbirds oneshot by Ro-RoWeasley**

* * *

 

Scott looked up at the clock on the wall for what seemed like the umpteenth time, urging the tiny metallic hands to move faster. Just three minutes to go now.  
  
His soles tapped impatiently against the floor, making his desk vibrate slightly as the classroom floor was disturbed. The teacher at the front was talking but the eldest Tracy wasn’t listening, having tuned her out over the last few minutes to focus on the number six.  
  
He looked up again. Two and a half minutes.  
  
Why did time slow down like this when he needed it otherwise? It was exactly what happened when he played with his toys at home. Whenever he was told he didn’t have long left until bedtime and he really wanted it to drag, the opposite happened and time flew by with the movements of his hands making his model USAF planes soar through the air. And now in school, just when he wanted to get out of there, time mocked him, sneering back at him from up there above the whiteboard. How he wished he could just fly right out of the window…Fly all the way home right now.  
  
Turning his gaze back to the wall again he gave a frustrated sigh, glaring at the taunting ticking circle of plastic.  
  
Now the harsh rhythm of his pen repeatedly hitting the paper in front of him joined the clumsy steps of his trainer-clad feet, making Scott wonder just how on earth no one had told him off yet. The noise was like thunder in his ears.  
  
One minute. Why couldn’t they just go home now? It was the holidays!  
  
Glancing left and right, he couldn’t believe how unexcited and still his friends seemed to be. Luke, sat two seats away from him, was actually going on holiday - to Europe to see his older sister compete in the Winter Olympics. He was going away for a whole _month_ and he didn’t look the least bit excited or fidgety.  
  
Now he was getting side-tracked.  
  
Ten seconds! Scott’s heart soared. He inched his chair backwards allowing his feet freedom to swing around so he was now sat sideways.  
  
When the bell finally rang, Scott Tracy was first out of the classroom.  
  
He grabbed his coat and bags, and was outside in seconds. Gasping as the chilly winter air hit him, his eyes caught sight of a familiar chestnut-haired figure straight in front of him.  
  
“Mom!” he shouted, hurrying over. She was gently rocking a buggy in which sat Scott’s youngest brother, John, currently napping. The eldest threw his arms around her left side for a hug, being very careful not to hurt her huge rounded tummy. In there was Scott’s third brother, who was due to be born very soon. Scott stroked a hand over very carefully, already full of love for his new baby brother.  
  
“Hey, Scotty!” she smiled, kissing his head and ruffling his hair. “Oooh get that coat of yours on, young man, we don’t want you catching a chill this close to Christmas!”  
  
As he pulled on his coat and zipped it up she placed an arm around his shoulder, grinning. “Hey, have you seen Virgil?”  
  
Scott beamed, ducking under her arm and hurrying around her, cobalt eyes scanning the playground for a sign of his younger brother. Mom chuckled behind him. She already knew where Virgil was but Scott was still going to play the game. They’d done so ever since Virgil had started school, and it had quickly become a tradition. No doubt it would continue for years to come, as Johnny was to start school next year and they also had another brother to come.  
  
He looked left and right and back again as he walked before he saw him. The chestnut-haired five-year-old was waving at him, his other hand holding onto his second-grade teacher. As the eldest ran over, Virgil broke away and bowled right into him.  
  
“Found me, Scotty!”  
  
Scott grinned, taking the bags from his younger brother then taking his hand. Bending down slightly, he whispered into his brother’s ear. “Hey have you seen Mom?”  
  
Virgil giggled, straining his neck around the many parents and children dotted around the elementary playground.  
  
“Mommy!” Virgil shrieked, as they got closer. Letting go of Scott, he ran full pelt over to her with his arms outstretched.  
  
Mom was forced to let go of the pram to catch him, lifting him up until he was balanced on her right hip. “You found me, Virgil!” she chuckled.  
  
Scott caught the buggy before it could go very far and automatically checked on John. The three-year-old was miraculously still sleeping soundly despite the noise around him. Dressed in a padded all-in-one with hat and gloves, and covered in a blue blanket, John looked more than cosy. Satisfied, Scott looked up and smiled at the scene before him. His mom was planting kisses on Virgil’s nose while the kid giggled with delight. Virgil looked so much like her with the same hair colour and brown eyes. Scott had inherited his father’s hair while John’s platinum blond shade had apparently come from their grandmother on mom’s side.  
  
Virgil was lowered to his feet and Scott remembered why he’d wanted to get out so quick. “Come on, Mom, we need to get home to sort out Daddy’s presents!”

* * *

Two weeks later, the morning of January 2nd saw the small Kansas town covered in a fresh sprinkling of snow. Welcoming in the New Year had never been so magical, delicate white flakes floating down upon them as Chinese lanterns were lit and sent into the heavens, along with wishes for the year ahead. John on Dad’s shoulders as the Tracy patriarch pointed out constellations. Virgil and Scott sipping tomato soup as the fireworks began, wincing slightly at the loud bangs but awed at the array of colours.  
  
Now, ever the early riser, Scott sat on his windowsill contentedly watching the landscape beyond as his blond brother came bounding into the room.  
  
“Scotty! Wake Virgie, wake Virgie!”  
  
“Shh, Johnny, you’ll wake Mom and Dad!” he whispered, putting a finger to his lips. “Come on then, let’s go make breakfast.”  
  
Ten minutes later, after Scott had bodily pulled Virgil from his burrow beneath the duvet, the three were down in the spacious kitchen. Scott fumbled with the bread bin taking out four slices and placing them in the toaster before helping his brothers in taking crockery out of the cupboards. He didn’t want to be responsible for a trip to the hospital on their Dad’s birthday, he was the big brother and was going to make sure his brothers handled the ceramic plates safely.  
  
He himself retrieved the knives, and then once everything was on the kitchen table he began helping John and Virgil set up the tray. For Mother’s Day last year, they’d surprised Mom by making her breakfast in bed. Dad had helped them, and now Scott wanted to do the same for him. He would have asked Mom to help, but with another baby Tracy due really soon she needed to relax and sleep. As the eldest, Scott knew what to do as long as he was safe with the equipment.  
  
What he’d forgotten, however, was to turn down the setting on the toaster.  
  
Just as they were finishing setting up the tray with butter and jam, Scott smelt an acrid charred stench before a loud shrill beeping noise filled the house. Virgil panicked and started to wail, while John simply allowed Scott to pick him up.  
  
Footsteps thundered down the stairs until their father burst into the room, his hair stuck-up wildly and a worried expression on his face. Scott bit his lip, feeling guilty for waking him up like that. How could he have forgotten to check the toast!  
  
The eldest watched as his dad’s face changed to a look of relief when he saw nothing urgently wrong, and set about finding a mop to turn off the alarm. Scott braced himself but instead of shouting, his father merely smiled before ruffling his hair as he picked up Virgil. The five-year-old sniffed, before looping his arms around his neck and grinning.  
  
“Happy birthday, Daddy!”  
  
“You boys did this for me, huh?” he asked, beaming at Scott and John. The former shifted nervously, looking down at his feet.   
  
“Tried.”  
  
“Don’t be mad at them, honey, it was very sweet,” Mom said as she slowly entered the kitchen.  
  
Dad chuckled. “What wonderful, thoughtful boys I have. Of course I’m not mad,” he said, putting an arm around Lucy’s waist and kissing her temple. “Thanks, boys. Now, who’s up for some edible breakfast?”  
  
Mom pulled out the blackened bread slices from the toaster, holding them out pointedly at her four boys before they all burst into laughter. Scott looked sheepishly down at his feet, his cheeks burning.

* * *

 

“…Twenty-eight, twenty-nine, and thirty!” they counted together, Scott’s hands over John’s eyes.  
  
“Weddy not here I come!” John cried. Scott placed his hands on his brother’s shoulders, bending his knees until he was at his height.  
  
“Hey, John, have you seen Dad?” he said loud enough for all hidden to hear.  
  
After helping Dad open his presents they’d all dressed for the weather. Clad in jumpers, coats, hats, gloves and wellies, they’d taken to the field of their back garden which was littered with trees, bordered with a tall hedge and begun a game of hide and seek. One person was selected as the seeker and they had to stand against the wall of the house and count to thirty while everyone else hid. Someone would then shout out a name and the seeker then had to find that person. As John was only three, Scott was helping.  
  
Admittedly the game was a lot simpler out in the snow, as the dark-clothed outlines of those hidden could be more easily seen against the stark white of the ground. In the summer, the colours were more varied making the game a lot more complex. However, it was still just as fun.  
  
John stood still for a few moments, a calculating look on face as his young brain worked over possible hiding places his father could be. He then ran off to the left, making for the largest tree at the bottom of the garden. Scott was close behind him in case he fell over.  
  
“Daddy?” the youngest shouted as he ran, stumbling slightly in the ankle-deep snow.  
  
Scott watched and grinned as Dad deliberately moved into sight before disappearing again. John then turned back to Scott, a finger to his lips.  
  
“Shhh Scotty,” he whispered loudly. The three-year-old then crept the rest of the way before running behind the tree and squealing, “found you daddy!”  
  
“You found me, Johnny!” Dad replied, picking him up and carefully placing him on his shoulders, John holding on to the black beanie hat. “Hey, Mom, have you seen Virgil?”  
  
There was an unsuccessfully muffled giggle from behind the shed to their left.  
  
“Hey, what about me?” Scott asked, pouting.  
  
“You saw where he hid!” Jeff chuckled. “Your mom came outside when you’d nearly finished counting, she didn’t.”   
  
“Hmm…Virgil?” Mom asked in a mock-surprised voice as she began to ‘search’. She actually did know where he was due to his loud laughter, but it was fairer on Virgil to make him think she didn’t.  
  
Virgil giggled again as mom drew closer and closer to his hiding place. Then as she disappeared round the back they heard, “you found me, Mommy!” Then the second Tracy brother came running, as Mom followed with her arms outstretched as though she would tickle the life out of him if she caught him. John however stopped her by blocking her path while Virgil kept running. He looped around however, heading instead for Dad and tackling him to the floor as well as a five-year-old could manage.  
  
Dad pretty much threw himself down as soon as Virgil touched him, making Scott double up. John followed when he saw them, squealing with delight as he jumped on top of Dad. Scott bent down and gathered a handful of snow in his hands and threw it. A snowball fight then ensued and, much later, the five Tracys ended up inside by the roaring fire, dripping wet but full of joy, laughter and love.

* * *

Years later found Scott, now Field Commander of International Rescue, and his father discussing childhood antics over a glass of scotch on a calm, clear evening on Tracy Island. He felt his heart soar when John, unaware of their conversation, approached them and plainly asked:  
  
“Hey, Scott, have you seen Gordon?”  
  
The eldest merely grinned in reply before setting down his glass and getting to his feet. With a family their size in both number and heart, hide and seek would always be the Tracy’s game – whether they knew it, or not.


End file.
